


Cold

by eboyklavier



Category: Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Gen, Megumi is emo and Hanekoma waxes poetic bullshit, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26489257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eboyklavier/pseuds/eboyklavier
Summary: Kitaniji visits a cafe, where he talks to a strange barista about the people of Shibuya
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	Cold

**Author's Note:**

> I did this in class just to stay awake. Not proof-read, so I hope it's alright. Thanks for reading o7. I hope the formatting is alright, posting this on mobile.

Golden sunlight beamed through the open windows, painting the small café in a warm canary light. The rough edges of a worn, minute tabletop jutted uncomfortably into Kitaniji’s lanky figure, clearly meant for someone much smaller than him. A steaming black coffee was placed before him by an overly-friendly barista, the barista’s grin large. “One coffee for you. Anything else? You look like you could use some more food.” He asked jovially, gesturing to Kitaniji’s skinny frame.

“Ah, no. I’m quite alright with this. Thank you.” Kitaniji replied bluntly. The barista sauntered away, leaving the ebony-haired man to his thoughts. Gazing absentmindedly through the window, Kitaniji observed as a ladybug slowly crawled along the stem of a flowering plant, oblivious to the racing cars and bustling city life around it. ‘Such a small creature’, Kitaniji mused. ‘So insignificant.’ The ladybug bumbled around the verdant leaf, and Megumi raised the steaming mug to his mouth. The bitter taste stung, its pungent taste attacking his throat. Kitaniji ignored it, pushing through. He wasn’t the biggest fan of sour substances, admittedly. He much preferred things on the sweeter side – not that he’d let anyone know. 

The trivial insect reminded the man of the citizens within the city. ‘Useless and trifling’, he thought with a grimace. It’s not that Kitaniji thought the whole of the city was this way, no, quite the opposite -- he adored it. The conductor treasured the vibrant skies, the smell of gasoline emitted by the cars that filled the roadways, the cities atmosphere. It was just the people. Individuality was a disease, an infection that plagued life itself. Kitaniji’s red headphones that hung around his shoulders was testament to the fact. Being able to hear all of society’s cacophony of selfish wants and desires, their incessant complaining, it all dragged down on him. It was a constant tug of war in his heart, an ongoing struggle. His love for the city yet his dissatisfaction for everything within.

“Ya’ know, if you keep frownin’ like that, you’re gonna get permanent facial lines.” A cheery voice pulled Kitaniji out of his brooding. The barista was standing behind a birch bench, washing the wood down with a cloth. Kitaniji didn’t respond – most people usually were put off by his unapproachable demeanor. But, as it would turn out, the barista was not ‘most people’. Much to Kitaniji’s chagrin, the barista strolled towards him.

“What are you thinkin’ so deeply about? Seein’ a customer in such distress ain’t my thing.” The barista asked cautiously. He spoke softly, yet a warm tone shone through his voice – it was inviting. Kitaniji rarely spoke his own opinion, believing it better to shut up. Yet the stranger’s presence seemed to ease though his tough walls. Kitaniji drew a long sip from his now-lukewarm coffee and placed it down.

“What do you think of people?” Kitaniji asked slowly. The barista tilted his head at him, curiously, as if analyzing him. The barista proceeded to offer him a glowing smile. “I think they’re great. Each human has the potential to bloom into a brilliant flower, if you see what I’m gettin’ at.” Kitaniji blinked in response. Not the answer he was expecting, and the way the barista had talked about humans as if he weren’t one was slightly odd, but Kitaniji waved the thought away.

“What makes you say so?” Kitaniji queried.  
“Well, what makes you say otherwise?” The barista countered easily. The stranger’s eyes had lit up with inspiration and a hint of glee. Kitaniji frowned further.

Silence filled the room. A moment passed, then two.

“I don’t like people.” Kitaniji muttered weakly, unsure of what to say. The barista let out a bark of a laugh. It was rough and loud, but not unpleasant to hear. Kitaniji found himself slowly warming up to the man.  
“I couldn’t tell!” He said with a bold smile. Kitaniji scowled, inciting a laughing fit from the other. He seemed to derive pleasure from Kitaniji’s expression, amused. “I’ll be hones’, I didn’t think it was possible for someone to frown even more than you are right now.” The barista quipped.

As the barista’s sunny laughter died down, echoing against the walls, Kitaniji sipped at his coffee. The barista shifted position so that his elbows rested against the table, hands cupping his own face. Brown eyes glowed behind small sunglasses, and a small smile rested on his lips.

“I think that there’s plenty beautiful things in humanity.” He began, slowly. Kitaniji stilled at the sound of the others voice. “Now, I don’t want to sound preachy. I know, I know how boring it is to hear the same thing over an’ over again. But there is truly something within each person, that makes this city truly beautiful.” The man had Kitaniji’s attention completely, coffee forgotten. A distant gaze clouded the other’s eyes. “Like when you compliment someone, an’ they smile widely. Or when you hold a door. Small things. They’re all impor’ant. Seeing the good in all, it ain’t easy, let me tell you. But it’s not impossible.” The barista stopped, eyelids closed. He turned towards the window.

“You gotta look past the colourblindness.”  
“I’m not colourblind?” Kitaniji stated. The barista looked towards him. “No, not like that. Physically? No, of course you’re not. But look deeper, within yourself. Are you truly seeing in colour, if you exclusively look at the negativity?”

Kitaniji was silent, reflecting on the stranger’s words. He stared into the cold drink, face refracted in the ripples that glided across the surface. Movement disturbed him, and Kitaniji looked upwards to see the barista moving away.

“I had better get back ta’ work.” He spoke easily, with a wave of his hand. Kitaniji watched for a moment, observing the man fiddling with his equipment. The long-haired man looked back down.

“It’s easy…to forget the beauty in things.” The barista spoke from the other side of the room, quietly, voice barely heard above the clattering noises of outside. Kitaniji merely nodded, as the man spoke one last time.

“Don’t you go on forgettin’ it, though.”


End file.
